Lightning

by electreXcessive

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Lightning Dust, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 2123

Lightning Dust is my daughter, and one I could never stop being proud of. If only I could have been the father she deserved...

Lightning Dust is my daughter, and one I could never stop being proud of. If only I could have been the father she deserved...

Author's Note: A collab with my good friend Flint Sparks.

Published 2013-10-30 21:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-30 21:10:03 UTC

Lightning

Oh, where do I begin to talk about this…? I’ve always been a sort of family stallion ever since my wife and I had a foal. When she was born, she instantly became the most important thing in either of our lives, and we loved her more than anything. My wife and I had decided that we should name her Lightning Dust, after her grandfather Lightning Storm, whom had recently passed away. Storm had been a great pegasus, and had always been kind and accepting of me being a part of his family, so we only though it honorable to pay him some sort of respect. We both loved her with all of our hearts, and did the best we could to take care of her.

Of course, like any relationship, my relationship with my wife had more than a few problems that came with it. When Lightning Dust was only three years old, my wife and I started arguing a lot more. Due to the fact that my status as a Wonderbolt caused me to travel a lot, combined with financial problems and my wife’s own job as a nurse, the stress level within our home had increased to almost unbearable levels. The stress just kept building and building, until one day my wife finally decided that it was time for a divorce. Lightning was only nine years old at the time.

It was… It was a hard time for me and Dust. My wife tried to fight me in court for custody of her, but thankfully I had a good lawyer, and I was able to win the custody battle. Still, all of this fighting and constant drama had a harsh, negative impact on Lightning Dust. She became more and more introverted; no longer being the fun-loving and peppy filly that I once knew. It hurt a lot to see my daughter in so much pain and agony all the time, having to watch our fight, knowing that she would never again be in the same house with both of us.

I know that feeling, unfortunately. When I was just a little colt, my parents would fight and argue constantly, so I was brought up in a sort of divided home. Sometimes at night their fighting would keep me awake for hours at a time, and I could hear them yelling and screaming at each other at what seemed like the most insignificant things. It seemed like they didn’t love each other anymore and it seemed like they didn’t love me. I knew that pain. I didn’t want Lightning Dust to have to deal with those memories all the time; no kid should have to deal with that at such a young age.

That’s why when my captain contacted me and offered me a promotion, but required that we move from Cloudsdale all the way to Fillydelphia, I gladly accepted. It was a sort of chance at a new start for me and Lightning, and I was so glad to take it. There were too many painful memories in that old house and city… for the both of us. My boss indicated that we would have to move within a week, so I told Lightning about the move right away. Unlike most foals, she was actually excited to move out of state and get what we both saw as a chance at a new start. Lightning Dust was always anti-social, so she had very few friends. I hoped that she would be able to make some when we finally arrived in our new home.

About a week later, we arrived at our new home in Fillydelphia. It was a nice little ranch house in the suburbs; a far cry from the cloud house that we used to call home. It was quiet, the neighbors were kind, and there were plenty of other colts and fillies for Lightning to get to know and play with. This place had everything that you could ever dream of in a neighborhood and it was the perfect place to get a new chance at life. We would finally be able to break away from the stress and drama of the previous year, and be together as a family again.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet, but my father and I used to have a tradition. Whenever a thunderstorm would occur, my father and I would go outside if it wasn’t too severe and whathaveyou. If it was a particularly bad storm, we would sit there together and watch the storm out of our front room window, and watch in awe as streaks of lightning would shoot across the sky. It was a way to observe the beauty of nature, and also a way to make the concept of a thunderstorm much less threatening and frightening to a young filly--who happened to share a name with this amazing phenomenon. I’d done this plenty of times with Lightning Dust, though her mother never particularly liked the fact that we did.

That’s why I saw it as a sort of sign that on the day that we arrived in our new home, a thunderstorm just happened to occur. I saw it as a symbol of how fortunate we were; it was one last grand show of theatrics that would finally wipe the past mess of a year from our memories. Lightning Dust loved it, even though the winds had caused enough to our house (and to others) to warrant the need for a professional carpenter. It was the biggest storm that she had seen in her life, and the biggest one that I had seen in a very long time. We watched together late into the night as beautiful white streaks of lightning tore through the night sky. Brilliant flashes of white light illuminated the still unpacked boxes of our home, causing them to cast long shadows against the walls. Lightning giggled and bounced around in delight, but I knew that it was way past her bedtime and that she would have to go to her new school in the morning, so I sent her to bed.

A few days later, our new life seemed to be shaping up rather well. Lightning Dust was enjoying school a lot for a filly her age, and she seemed to be making a lot of friends and getting along with the other schoolchildren. They would often come over to play or stay the night if their parents would let them. For the first time in a long time, Lightning was happy, and seeing her having such a great time made me even happier that I had made the decision to move. Life seemed to be going relatively well for the time being, and it didn’t seem like anything could go wrong.

That morning, I went to Lightning Dust’s room to wake her up and get her ready for school. Her mother had never let her have her own room, and she’d always wanted one, so I let her have it. I thought she was old enough anyway; after all, she was nine years old already. She couldn’t sleep with me for the rest of her life whenever she got scared. The first few days of having her own room, Lightning had been a little bit apprehensive, but she seemed to get used to it rather quickly. I was surprised when I opened the door to her room to see her smiling. I asked what had her in such a good mood, to which she replied, “I watched the lightning at my window last night, dad!”

I didn’t really think anything of it at the time, considering that the area we lived in supposedly had relatively frequent thunderstorms. I was an extremely heavy sleeper, so Lightning Dust could have easily been awoken during the night of a thunderstorm and watched it without me. It was a way of dealing with any stress and reaffirming oneself of the beauty of nature. I just patted her on the head with a “Sorry I missed it, honey,” and sent her off to school.

A few mornings later, the same thing happened again. This time, I knew for a fact that there had been no storm that night, as I’d had to stay awake a bit late to finish so finish some spreadsheets for work. I simply ruffled her mane and said, “Kiddo, it didn’t storm last night. You must have been dreaming.” She looked slightly dejected at this, so I ruffled her mane again and wrestled with her a bit. I told her not to worry, as I was sure that there would be another storm soon. Lightning smiled, and headed off to school.

Then, it became a pattern. She would constantly tell me two to three times a week about how she had “watched the thunderstorm,” despite there not having been any storms at all. I began to grow slightly worried that she might be delusional from sickness or something. I took her temperature and checked her forehead, but she didn’t have any sort of fever to speak of. I brushed it off as her overacting imagination working overtime again. She’d probably been having some reoccurring dreams of that first spectacular night that we’d shared upon our arrival.

When I look back at it now… It’s easy to blame myself for what happened. My friends, neighbors, and family all assure me that there’s nothing that I could have done. They tell that there’s no way that I could have known, but I know that it’s all my fault. I felt like a disgrace to my position as a Wonderbolt. I’m supposed to be the guardian of my foal; I’m supposed to be her sword and shield against all of the evil this world has to offer.

Their words of comfort mean nothing to me. I constantly relive that morning, thinking about how I just went about my day as if everything was normal. I remember drinking my coffee, pouring milk over my cereal, and going out to get my morning paper. Then I remember reading the bolded headlines about the crazed stalker that had recently been arrested by the local authorities. It was the kind of thing that made headline news.

Apparently this… this sick pervert, would select a pony, whom was usually a young mare, and stake out their house. He would take flash photos of the ponies, and sometimes… Sometimes he would break into their house.

I remember my heart sinking into my stomach, and beating a mile a minute as I made the connection. I had passed it off as some sort of foalhood imagination or Lightning Dust getting some new imaginary friend.

Looking back, it was the most terrifying thing that I’d ever heard in my entire life.

I remember the day like it was yesterday, and I remember it perfectly. I remember walking up to my daughter’s room and seeing the smile on her face, although it looked slightly off. It looked bigger than usual, as if she had gotten some sort of huge treat for doing something good, or gotten an A on her big test. I remember walking in there as if it had been a normal morning, drinking my coffee and asking how Lightning had slept through the night. I asked her -- jokingly -- if she had seen another thunderstorm out of her window that night. She responded quickly that she had indeed seen a thunderstorm that night, but that she hadn’t seen it through her bedroom window.

I was slightly confused, and once again asked her if she was feeling sick and took her temperature. She still didn’t have any sort of fever and didn’t appear to be sick. I wondered if she had finally realized that what she had been seeing was a dream, or if she had been seeing some sort of broken light fixture or electrical hazard, which had been reflecting off of her window on some nights. Cautiously, I asked, “Well, if you didn’t see it out your window, then where did you see it?”

My daughter turned to me and said the most terrifying words that I think I have ever heard in my entire life. She turned to me, and said, “Don’t be silly, dad… The lightning came from my closet!”

To this day, I can never stop wondering what would have happened to Lightning Dust if they hadn’t caught that twisted equine. Every night I blame myself for failing so foolishly -- so blindly -- to protect her. My time with the Wonderbolts has already come to an end; I had retired years ago, against the pleas of my comrades and still wallowing in shame.